Remember That for Me
by Remus J. Lupin-Black
Summary: Just one night for Eileen Prince.


**Remember That for Me  
**By Ex-Professor Remus Lupin  
-  
Author's Note: I have no idea where I pulled this out of but it happened regardless. I feel she deserves her own story. This probably wasn't enough. Maybe later. And of course, this is complete crap. Tell me what you think.  
-  
She had never been pretty. Her face was too long and her body despite having filled out somewhat since her school days was still too thin and too tall. She had decided long ago that it didn't matter; she had only one reason to stay. That reason was currently examining the contents of his potion set a few feet before her. She waited for her husband to return from wherever he had gone.

Her dark hair, flowing past her shoulders in a straight and shiny sheet, had been allowed to hang free this evening. She had no need for formalities tonight. Gazing intently at her son, she tried to recall something she seemed to have forgotten. Tonight was an important night, her husband's birthday, but as with most nights, he had not come home.

"Mum," she looked sharply down to find that her son had given upon the potion set and was now gazing up at her, his eyes as black as pitch.

"Hmmm," she asked, smiling warmly as he stood, eyeing her carefully as he walked across the room.

He was only five, but he had inherited her grace as he approached her, placing a small hand on her own. She did not admit that the innocent smile he gave her broke her heart. With a sigh, she took his hand, examining the carefully kept nails, thanking a house elf in the process.

"Is he going to come home?"

"What?" she looked at him in alarm.

"Father? Is he going to come home?" the question was repeated and she gazed at him for a moment, unsure about her own answer.

"I don't know," she admitted finally.

A door slammed open and she winced, bowing her head, shameful that her son was witness to her fear as her husband stalked into the entry hall. Built like a football player, his features were strong, but not handsome, as Eileen had once thought. Especially now. The once bright brown eyes, which had looked upon her with such tenderness when they had been in school, were bleary and bloodshot.

The muscles had gone slack and he had begun to develop a gut. The only thing that remained the same was his nose. It was a constant reminder to her, even when she looked at her son, for he had inherited than nose.

"What are you doing?" she looked up sharply as Tobias entered the room, her dark eyes betraying not even her fear, though she was certain her son, still clutching her hand, could sense it rolling off of her in waves. She suspected Tobias could smell it as his nostrils flared and he stepped jerkily into the room.

"I was just going to put your son to bed," she said, standing slowly, robes fluttering around her ankles as she bent down to lift him into her arms.

"My son?" Tobias asked, looking confused.

"Yes," she answered. She wished he would move so that she could get the child up to bed. She did not want him to witness what she suspected would happen. Again.

"He's your son, woman," she looked at him in disbelief. "I don't want anything to do with him."

"Then let me put my son to bed," she said softly, adjusting her grip so that he was able to wind his arms around her neck. She had grown used to carrying him now and he seemed dependant upon her. One reason why she did not want him witness to this.

"Leave 'im here," Tobias jerked his head to the boy. "He'll be fine, I need you."

"I don't want to leave him here," Eileen asked, stepping forward and trying to move past her husband.

He struck, his large hand snapping her head back so that she tasted the copper of blood as her lip split. Staggering back, she shushed her son as he burst into tears. She gladly set him down in the corner and straightening, her pureblood refusing for the time being to bow down to this muggle that had dared to touch her.

"You didn't have to do that," she said softly petting her son's head as he cried.

"Course not," Tobias said savagely. "I want to though."

When the boy did not quiet, Eileen knelt beside him, shushing him.

"Shut him up," her husband threatened. "Or I'll do it for you."

He stepped forward menacingly and she stood, black eyes narrowing to slits. Tobias stopped in his tracks, looking at her in amusement, as if he thought it a game. To her, it was more than a game. It was the fine line between being able to get out of the bed in the morning and being sent to St. Mungo's for falling down the stairs.

"He a child," she explained. "Children cry."

"Not mine," he growled, taking another step forward. "Shut him up!"

As the decibel of his voice rouse, she cringed away from him, fearful of being hit again and yet, more in fear of her child being hit. It had only happened once and she did not wish that upon him again.

"Shut up!" Tobias shouted, and he lurched forward. Eileen shrieked in surprise, she fell away from her husband, and he advanced on her child.

"No!" she managed before he grabbed the boy by the front of his robes and lifted him from the ground, shaking him quickly and sharply. "Stop please!" She grasped the sleeve of his work robes, wishing that she had her wand. Though she doubted she had the courage to draw her wand on her own husband.

The child was silent now, tears still falling in silent rivulets down his face, but he was no longer making noise, except the occasional sniffle to breathe properly. Tobias dropped him back to the floor and grabbed her arm, jerking her violently forward.

He tasted of whiskey and cigars. An unpleasant, muggle taste, she thought as he plundered her mouth. He pushed her away with a grumble of disgust and she fell, cowering into the wall. Her son watched with wide, black eyes.

"I'm going to bed," he announced, looking wildly at his wife, brown eyes gleaming wildly.

"I will join you, just as soon as I put him to bed," she whispered softly, gazing at her feet, too ashamed to meet her son's or her husband's eye. She had failed once more to stand up for herself and her son would take the lesson to heart she knew.

"Course you will," he was gone a moment later.

Eileen Prince, the heir of Ravenclaw and keeper of Rowena's most sacred of possessions – her sapphire necklace – had been beaten once more by a common muggle. Once again, she had allowed him to walk all over her and she had failed to protect her own child.

"Don't mind the filthy mud blood," she said softly, gathering her son into her arms. "One day, Mommy will show him. Just remember that you are always half of a Prince, you are my half-Prince, okay. Remember for Mommy."

"'Kay," the words were said choked between sobs and sniffles as she carried her son up the stairs and to his room.

"You are my half-blood Prince," she whispered as she watched him drift off to sleep, in the hopes of postponing her fate. "Remember that for me, Severus."


End file.
